There's a certain moment when you have to cry.
A certain word, a certain tone, a certain piece of ****
who can't wait to say how everything has gone to hell
whispers in your fragile ears
and then it's over.
You could shrug, you could laugh
rubbing those tell-tale torrents away
claiming allergies or dry contacts
and you'll know, they'll know
and pretend together.
You could try cowardice and run
finding safe haven in fuzzy socks and tired pillows.
But what you won't do is two-fold:
There is no holding back a broken dam
nor is there drowning its heedless audience.
But today it's me
not you
and I need your half-hearted hugs
your awkward comforts.
Anything, really.
I don't care if you suffocate.
I won't tell you particulars
you won't give me advice
and that way
we'll never disappoint the other.
No waterfalls
just a pond
the perfect inaction
of soul and body.